


Orion's Dog

by embarrassing_fics



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-05
Updated: 2020-02-05
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:22:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22577755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/embarrassing_fics/pseuds/embarrassing_fics
Summary: Orion Black reflects on his wife and their marriage while anticipating the birth of their first child. (Muggle AU)
Relationships: Orion Black/Walburga Black
Kudos: 12





	Orion's Dog

**Author's Note:**

> This is another one of my fics that, however embarrassing, I simply had to get out of my system. That's the whole point of me creating this account after all; to post the fics that are too embarrassing for my main account. Besides, I actually like this one, despite how obscure and unnecessary it might seem to anyone who isn't me.
> 
> Walburga Black and her life have fascinated me for a long time, and I enjoy writing about her in fics that concern Sirius, so I thought "why not write a fic that's entirely about her"? And that's exactly what I did. I hope you enjoy watching as I write entire stories about less and less significant Harry Potter characters and slowly descend into madness. It's gonna be a fun ride!
> 
> P.S.: This story takes place in a wider Muggle AU that my friend and I have created. I hope the absence of magic and pureblood mania doesn't take away from the story too much.

Orion has been waiting and waiting outside the delivery room. He thanks his good fortune for the invention of c-sections, and shivers at the mere thought of his wife’s screams were she to consciously deliver the baby. She does not have a strong constitution, that’s for sure.

He has already had enough of her explosive temper these past few months, the pregnancy hormones intensifying her already not quite sunny disposition. But when they took her in, sedated, her face was more serene than he had seen it in months, and she looked almost ethereal in the white hospital gown.

He still remembers the first time he saw her after returning from his travels. He had set off to explore the world after graduating Hogwarts, forgetting temporarily that there was a cousin betrothed to marry him sometime in the future, and enjoyed his carefree years as a bachelor.

Then the letter came; Walburga had finally come of age and he were to come home and marry her.

He disliked the idea at first - having to settle down so abruptly was a bit of a shock. But a few days after his arrival, his parents made him attend a ball with them, knowing she would be there.

“There she is,” his mother said and discreetly gestured at a figure in the distance, “go and ask her to dance.”

He approached her cautiously; she was chatting with a couple of other girls and hadn’t noticed him.

“Cousin?”

Walburga turned around to face him, and Orion held his breath.

She was the most dazzling creature he had ever encountered, with her long black hair and her bright silver eyes - the trademark of their family (one they had managed to maintain through decades of intermarrying). Her face belonged to a greek statue carved in pentelic marble, shining with a golden hue under the light of the chandeliers.

He stood in awe for a moment, admiring her.

“If it isn’t Orion. Back from your travels already?” she said, her voice more mature than the nineteen years of her age.

“You of all people must have been notified, cousin.” He gave his most charming smile. “Care to join me in this dance?”

She gracefully accepted his extended hand and soon they were swaying in a gentle waltz. The girl was an excellent dancer as far as technique went, but perhaps she was missing something in emotion.

“You’ve changed since the last time I saw you,” he remarked. “You were a little girl, I recall, and now you look like a goddess.”

Walburga raised one eyebrow. “Such talk is unnecessary, cousin. I am already promised to you, have you forgotten?”

“Far from it. In fact, I look forward to setting a date for the wedding.”

“I believe that is up to you. All  _ I _ have been busy with since finishing Hogwarts is awaiting your return.” She said it bitterly, as if she would have preferred to have spent her time otherwise engaged, but he didn’t think much of it.

He courted her eagerly during the weeks leading up to their wedding, but his displays of admiration left the ever-haughty Walburga unimpressed. Orion did not fret then; he had years and years ahead of him, in which to win the affection of the exquisite woman his good fortune had bestowed upon him.

The intoxicating effect of her beauty did not wear off quickly. The first few years into their marriage, he still considered himself an incredibly lucky man. He looked at her as if she were the moon, did everything in his power to please her, and even commissioned a life-size portrait of her to be hung in the hallway, so that he could never forget how beautiful his wife was even in her absence.

However, around the fourth or fifth year he could not turn a blind eye anymore. Walburga never smiled, not genuinely, not in a way that lit up her face. She carried out every day as if it were a burdensome task, and would wake up to wander the mansion alone at night, often scaring the servants who mistook her for a ghost in her long white nightgown.

Their attempts at producing an heir were fruitless, and even the process was becoming tedious. She flinched at his touch, and simply lay there when they made love, unresponsive, with an almost suffering expression on her face.

He asked her about it; was he too rough? Too boring? He was willing to switch things up if it were to evoke some reaction in her. No, she said, it was fine. She just wanted it to end as quickly as possible.

It was then that he finally began to understand. Walburga never wanted to get married - not to him, nor to anyone else. She was a clever woman, a woman with ambitions. Domestic life, being the lady of the manor, attending balls and social events, those things weren’t enough for her; she was bored to death. His wife longed for something more; for adrenaline, for power, for the opportunity to prove her worth.

Orion wrote to his sister Lucretia and asked her about it; before she married one Ignatius Prewett and moved to the countryside, Lucretia had been close with Walburga, being classmates at school as well as cousins.

Lucretia informed him of Walburga’s dreams; she had hoped to study further after school, to possibly engage in politics, to become a prominent figure in the political scene of Britain like so many of their ancestors - but those ancestors had all been male. And she was a high society girl of marrying age.

Those ambitions had to be abandoned. She was now to become someone’s wife, and then someone’s mother, and then buried into oblivion forever. And every day she spent at Grimmauld Place she withered away at this prospect.

At first he dealt with it by having an affair or two. Walburga quickly found out and, for the first time, exploded. Her wrath was a sight to behold. Orion was secretly happy to have triggered at least some reaction in her, but realised she was not doing it out of jealousy.

It turned out that she couldn’t care less about who he slept with, just as long as no one in their circle heard of it. And the whispers about Orion’s affairs in high society gatherings were ruining their public image. Walburga was very devoted to their public image.

He left. Around the world a second time, so he could have his affairs in peace, now that he knew he had his wife’s approval. In the meantime, Walburga’s brother Cygnus got married and almost immediately had a daughter.

Walburga, who spent most of her time with her brother in her husband’s absence, was taken with the child. Perhaps she saw in the little girl an opportunity to claim once again the things that were denied to her; higher education, power, influence. She insisted that they name the baby Bellatrix, after the female warrior star.

Cygnus and his wife Druella still tried for an heir; they had a second daughter, and then a third one. By the time young Narcissa was born, however, Druella’s fragile health was unable to handle another pregnancy - that’s what the doctor said. This left the House of Black, yet again, heirless.

That was what suddenly prompted Walburga into action. Orion was in France when he received a three-page letter lecturing him on the importance of preserving the Black bloodline, and ordering him to return to Grimmauld Place at once. He obliged, and saw his wife again after years of being away - not the tiniest bit of her beauty had faded.

He had barely unpacked his belongings when she almost dragged him to bed, claiming that she was in her most fertile days, and he followed without complaint. This time it was quite different; there was this feeling of urgency, this despair in her, that made it somewhat more enjoyable. Besides, that body he had once worshipped was still as vigorous as ever. He smirked; perhaps his wife, like fine wine, only got better with age.

They kept at it for a few months. Walburga was slowly becoming more and more hysterical. Every month, when she found out she still wasn’t pregnant, a small part of her sanity dissolved into the void.

They eventually went to see a doctor - Walburga, obviously, almost lost her mind over the possible scandal if word got out - and began medical treatments, with pills and hormones. It made her borderline manic.

For two years they lived in this frenzy, until his wife finally conceived and - what a strange thing to say about the woman who once loathed his touch - left him alone.

Everyone has been holding their breath for months now, awaiting the new baby. Orion prays that it is a boy, because he simply cannot go through this another time. He needs it to be a boy. His wife is certain of it, and has even chosen a name for their son: Sirius.

“But Sirius is Orion's dog,” he had observed.

“All the better,” she had said, nonchalant. “It will teach him to obey.”

In the end, their expectations are fulfilled. A nurse exits the delivery room and announces to him that yes, it is a boy, and yes, it is perfectly healthy.

And thus, their noble family proudly welcomes another member; Sirius Black is painted onto the tapestry in the drawing room, and one of the empty bedrooms of Grimmauld Place is refurbished into a nursery for the charming new baby, who has his mother’s black hair and beautiful grey eyes.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you soooo much for reading! You're a gem! Please leave me even the tiniest comment and let me know what you thought, posting these #embarrasing_fics is actually a weird experience for me and I feel a little self-conscious putting them out there. I'd love to hear your thoughts!


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